


Quiet

by CalamiTEA



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Assassination, Canon Divergence, Not Dark Brotherhood, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27732703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamiTEA/pseuds/CalamiTEA
Summary: A quick one-shot detailing Emperor Titus Mede II's son's experience of the assassination of both the Emperor and Vittoria Vici.I don't actually think the Emperor had a son. But you know.
Comments: 1





	Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> None of the characters here is the Dragonborn, or affiliated with the Dark Brotherhood. Not much more to be said here, enjoy!

Some say fear has many eyes. But Augustus Mede knew better. Fear only has two eyes. Two eyes of glaring violet shade.

Every royal son and daughter shared a common paranoia. They saw daggers in the dark, tasted poison in every drink and heard insincerity in every laughter. It was always there in the back of their minds; their demise silent and treacherous.

Augustus Mede never wanted to come to Skyrim with his father. Despite having a legion of Penitus Oculatus patrolling every corner of the armoured vessel, he felt as defenceless as if there was none. This far-flung end of the Empire was frigid cold, wild and torn by war; or so he's heard. Titus Mede II was bent on visiting it, however.

"Cousin's wedding, really?", the boy huffed.

"Family goes first, Augustus.", his father reminded him gently, "We have to stand example for the people, you know that."

"It's not worth risking your life for."

"There is no risk. I trust my Legions, and so should you.", the emperor knew how to appease his son.

Even though Augustus would hardly leave his cabin, he enjoyed the sights. Skyrim was beautiful in a savage way, far different from any other province. Catching glimpses of the jagged shoreline, mountains buried in the clouds and glaciers of crystalline cold, the heir to the Empire decided he rather liked Skyrim after all. The people in here were also to be different, no? Devoid of Cyrodilic cynicism and perfidy, the Nords were straightforward and blunt. They used battleaxes and maces, not daggers and diplomacy. Besides, Katariah was a luxurious ship, a well-guarded one at that. No crazy Nord with an axe would get in. With that comforting thought, Augustus was finally ready to relax.

His father was overjoyed seeing him out of the cabin and taking interest in the preparations. Vittoria Vici, Emperor's cousin, was a light-hearted filly; being around her one could forget about everything wrong with this world. She would pull Augustus to the side, and with a grave frown on her pretty face, explain why red drapes were so much worse than purple ones. The royal heir would try and maintain his blase mien, but to no avail - Vittoria's innocent charms had taken root in him. Hell, he'd even find himself regretting not being able to steal the bride right from the altar. How unfair was that: the future Emperor denied the woman he'd want?

With that bitter resentment on his mind, Augustus refused to attend the wedding. Vittoria would come aboard Katariah to have dinner with them, anyway. He could express his discontent all he wanted.

Had he known that the drapes would be red after all...

Titus Mede II insisted on calling the murder an "isolated incident" - and all Augustus could do was to bite back and try not to scream at the injustice of it all. Vittoria was just a few years older than him, had a great life ahead of her. Wife to a wealthy trader who worshipped the ground she'd walked on, cousin of the Emperor of Tamriel, possible mistress of the heir...

It all disappeared with a thundering roar of a stone gargoyle.

The guests would swear the beast came alive just to take the bride's life. But stone did _not_ come to life, it was _not_ an accident, and it was _not_ okay. How could everyone just accept that...?

It was well after the sundown. Katariah rocked gently on the waves, anchored right under the Blue Palace. Violet sky above, its stars dimmed by clouds; Skyrim nights were supposedly the most beautiful ones in the world. But to Augustus, its nebulas were painted with blood. Every star, a drop of Vittoria's life that seeped through the stone cracks.

Shivering, the boy pulled more furs towards him. Tugging the sheets closer, he curled up on the bed. _It's not fair_ , repeating like a mantra in his head. Vittoria didn't deserve it. _He_ didn't deserve it. And he missed what could have been even more than what had been taken away. His father was ridiculous about this. The Nords should all be punished for that! It was one of them, it must have been. They had all the reasons, all the nerve to do this. Augustus regretted the trust he'd initially put in them after all. Men were all the same. Destroying what was vulnerable, trampling what was weak; a frail flower such as Vittoria had to suffer at some point. But Augustus believed he could protect her. And he'd sworn he would...

Drowning in regret, the boy choked on a sob and turned to the side, where the window was. He wanted to look at that sky, he wanted to force an answer out of it, no matter how long it'd take and how unreal it seemed. His father wouldn't speak, so maybe the gods would...?

What he saw was violet. A furious, gleaming shade of purple, like a deathbell. Gazing at him from the open window... was a pair of eyes. Shriek of terror froze in his throat.

"Quiet, my prince.", a feminine voice hummed.

Augustus blinked, frozen still.

A silhouette flashed before him, as the intruder swung downwards and perched on the sill. Her waist was slender, a curved dagger attached to slim thigh, face covered by a scarf. Apart from these dreadful eyes. Eyes that fear itself would have, were it a human. And for Augustus, that was it. Terror incarnated, the assassin he'd been expecting all his life.

The woman leapt forward and landed on the bed, right next to the terrified boy. He wouldn't move, blink, or even breathe. Tears streamed down his pale face, as he stared the assassin down. Was that it? Was that how you face your death? In your nightgown, crying over the death of someone dear, miserable and paralysed with fear? Augustus shut his eyes tight, waiting for the cold blade on his throat. But the strike didn't come.

The boy wouldn't even feel weight shift on the mattress as the woman moved effortlessly, soundlessly. Like a ghost, like the moonlight, like the personified Fear she was. Augustus wanted to scream.

"Quiet."

The voice hummed soothingly again, and somehow he just knew what it meant. And he wouldn't dare disobey.

The assassin walked back to the window, having inspected the whole room and stuffing her tiny bag with whatever jewelry she found lying around. Augustus could now have a better look at her, as she faced the moonlight. For someone who was supposed to murder him, she was... _small_. The dagger strapped to her thigh looked like a serpent, metal coiling and woven in like of a real snake. Dark outfit was tailored and adorned with a simple symbol he couldn't recognise.

"Father.", the boy whispered through tears.

Violet-eyed woman turned her head to him and the glare she sent shut Augustus right up.

He just wanted to ask her to be quick. To do it with a single slash. That dagger looked menacingly sharp, he was sure it could all be over in a second... Augustus shut his eyes yet again, whimpering.

He felt warm fingertips on his chin, lifting his face up. The boy was forced to look into these terrifying, purple eyes again. After a few seconds, he had to admit that... Fear wasn't that scary. With the scarf off, the woman's face appeared smooth and rather pretty. She was a Bosmer, a young one at that. The violet eyes had a soft glow to them, almost making them warm. There was no bloodlust, insanity or plain desire to inflict pain. In fact, he could read nothing off them.

Augustus trembled violently. But now that death was so close, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. Staring back, he swallowed back the tears.

"You're Augustus, no?", soft murmur escaped her lips.

He nodded, unable to make a sound. _Quiet, my prince._

"Nobody wished for you to be killed, my Prince."

"And Vittoria?", the royal heir nearly slurred his words, trying to stop shaking.

"I killed her, yes.", the woman chimed quietly. Like a child pinning down a butterfly in idle, cruel boredom, she stared at him for a moment longer. She wanted a _reaction_.

And he wanted to be mad. He really did. Maybe if he could, at last, scream, maybe it'd all be better. Maybe she would give him the answers, maybe it'd hurt less to die with truth in his mind. But none of that happened. He felt empty, painful void in his chest, and assassin's humming stuck in his head.

With a small smile, she bid him farewell, placing one final kiss on Augustus' lips and disappeared before he could react.

The kiss of Fear stung. And it tasted... sour?


End file.
